


Angel

by starrysuhh



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, Music, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 19:08:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19979044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrysuhh/pseuds/starrysuhh
Summary: Mark loved making music and performing. It was his passion and everyone knew he was born to be on a stage. But even the greatest musicians, composers, producers have insecurities. So it was you that kept him going, and became his greatest muse.





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! I'm back but this time with studio Mark! As usual please listen to "Angel" by Finneas to get the full experience as that is the song I used for this!! Here's to Mark Lee the nation's boy hehe I hope you guys like it!

The music cuts off and an exhausted sigh leaves your boyfriend, Mark’s, mouth. You turn and look at the clock, 1:45 A.M. You’d gotten here about two hours ago but Mark had been in here for well over nine hours. This is how it usually went on studio days, he’d lock himself in trying to perfect whatever song, beat, or lyrics, he was currently working on. 

“It’s so hot in here I feel like I’m suffocating,” Mark says taking his oversized t-shirt off to leave only a thin muscle shirt under. Your eyes trace his body, his disheveled black hair from constantly running his hands through it. His skin glistening in the dim lights, at some point your eyes find his from across the room. 

“Baby I think you need to take a break,” you say making your way to wrap your arms around his waist. “But y/n it’s almost there I can feel it,” he replies. You understand you two have gone through this cycle more times than you can count. “It’ll turn out to be amazing, it does every time love now come sit down,” you say. 

You can feel him but you know his mind is wandering. Lost in thoughts of what he wants this current project to be but knowing it’s not quite there yet. You let him, you always do, so you sit in comfortable silence for a while. His voice is barely above a whisper and if you didn’t know any better you might’ve missed it entirely. 

“I just feel like it’s not good enough,” he takes a breath, “like I’m not good enough.” Your heart clenches at his words. Sometimes you wish Mark could see himself through your eyes. So then he’d see how amazing he really is, how he has the ability to put your mind and soul at ease within seconds, how he lights up any room he’s in, how everyone wants to be him or be friends with him. How he’s everything and then some, but most of the times he’s stuck in his own racing thoughts. 

“Mark look at me,” you say turning his face so his gaze is off the floor. “You are so many things, you’re a breath of fresh air when I feel like I’m drowning, you’re the feeling of euphoria when you race down an empty freeway, you’re the sunlight warming up your blankets first thing in the morning, you’re the moon touching the sun just to get a few moments of its beautiful light, you are every star in a dark night sky, every sunrise, sunset, laughter, and everything in between. I wish you saw that, but I’ll always be here to remind you when you need it. That not just your music is good enough, but you, you’re so much more than good enough” you say. 

What comes next isn’t words, but lips pressed up against yours. It’s needy, desperate almost like you’re both trying to remember what the other tastes like. Mark starts trailing kisses down your neck and his fingers are digging into your hips to pull you as close as he possibly can. Your hands are tangled up in his hair pulling at the ends to emit a low groan from the boy. He uses one of his hands to grip your thigh (he knows it drives you crazy) and the other to trace patterns across your back. You swear time stops, all you can feel, taste, think of, is Mark. In the midst of the heat radiating from your two bodies, you feel something cool hit your chest. You don’t even have to look to know what it is. 

For your one year anniversary, Mark bought you matching necklaces with your initials on them. Since then, he didn’t go anywhere without his silver one, always displaying the dainty little “R” on it. No matter where he was even if you weren’t there if he had it on it’s like you were there with him. So whether it was before shows, long flights to faraway cities, or restless nights, he depended on it, and you, more than you could ever imagine. 

Just thinking about it makes your stomach fill up with butterflies, and his bare arms around you weren’t helping much either. You flip over so that you’re sitting on his lap, and press another kiss to his neck, his jaw, his lips, and everywhere in between. You make sure to take your time, pressing down on the sensitive spot near his collarbone and under his jaw. At some point when both your lips are swollen, he rests his forehead on yours and you two sit there trying to catch your breaths. 

“I wanna show you something.” he pulls you off of him and over to the computer. You’re pulled back into his lap and rest your head on his chest while he opens his files to look for something. “I was waiting to show you, but now is a good a time as any right,” he says. He clicks play and his sweet voice fills up the room. 

“I bought a house to live in but you're the home I'm missin', you’re an angel in disguise, you’re an angel in my eyes, are you mine tonight?” your eyes start to well up with tears as the rest of the song continues on. Once it ends you turn to him and run your fingers along every curve and dip of his face. “It’s not a surprise,” he says “but my best songs are always the ones I write about you, my angel”. 

So you spend the rest of the night, stealing kisses, lending ideas, and enjoying the warmth your starlight radiates. Knowing that even if there were times when Mark didn’t see how amazing he was, you’d be there to reassure him. And being grateful that you could be even a mere part of the beautiful art he produced, not fully realizing his favorite piece would always be you.


End file.
